


Performer At Heart

by SprungSick



Series: The Adventures Of A Tommy Who Can Do The Splits [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Acrobatics, Aerial silks, Gen, I wanted Tommy to be an acrobat okay sue me, Might add on? Idk, Not Beta Read, Not my performer ass projecting whaaaat, Reading things through is dumb and Not Cool, This was supposed to be a warm-up-, Tommy is cool and I will give him cool hobbies screw you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SprungSick/pseuds/SprungSick
Summary: Although he's never mentioned it, Tommy does more than streaming.In which I took a warm-up way too far and I just think it would be cool, okay-
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, For several reasons but mostly ew, No Romantic Relationship(s), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: The Adventures Of A Tommy Who Can Do The Splits [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049930
Comments: 78
Kudos: 1012
Collections: Completed stories I've read





	Performer At Heart

Yes, Tommy knew being an acrobat generally stuck someone in the ‘weird’ category. He also knew that being a guy acrobat increased that tenfold. 

He lost his ability to care about that a long time ago. 

What could he say? Why should he have to defend himself? He loved to bend and push and force his body to do unimaginable things. He spent hours every day practicing - sometimes until his spine felt like it would snap and his vision would dance dangerously - just so he could see himself perform in a way not many others could. He loved it. 

But, as stated before, it was seen as a bit odd. Not unacceptable, certainly not, but something that one kept to themselves. An acrobat kept to themselves until the time was right. 

Despite how much he burned to reveal himself, Tommy also followed this rule. His time in the studio, time on the stage, time on the silks or pole or another person, stayed with like-minded people. Which was fine. 

However, he was a performer at heart. 

Which was how he managed to find himself in this situation. 

Well, that and his regretfully loose mouth. 

“Chat, I promise you. If I get ten gifted subs I will stop everything and do a split. No warm-up, no stretching, nothing!” 

Tommy heard loud laughter ring through his headset. “TommyInnit is sacrificing his balls for gifted subs. Now I’ve seen everything. Chat please make this happen.” 

“Oh trust me Wilbur, the state of my balls is the least of your concern. I’d be more worried about how I’m going to absolutely own the shit out of this split,” he crowed. It only served as kindling for the voice chat to erupt into more cackling. 

“TommyInnit breaks his balls on stream, not clickbait,” Techno mused, voice slightly wheezing. He elected to frown into the camera. In the corner of his eye, he watched the chat explode.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he stated seriously. “My balls are made of steel, Technoblade. They’d probably dent the floor before they broke.”

More raucous laughter, Tubbo’s ringing higher in his ears. 

“You just, you just-” Tubbo started, occasionally pausing to suck in a breath. “I’m just imagining that you’re with a woman, right? And-” 

A light ding came from his computer. He very audibly choked. 

“Did they-” 

“Oh my god-” 

“Thank you notabotzerozero for the ten gifted subs,” Tommy announced solemnly. 

He took off his headphones to preserve his ears from the onslaught of screeching. When he put them back on, he nearly took them off again. 

“Oh Tommy, you got royally fucked by your chat!” 

“Holy shit, someone actually paid forty pounds to see you do a split!” 

“Can you even get all the way down?” 

Tommy shrugged nonchalantly, nerves slowly making their presence known. He pulled a face at his camera in an effort to stave them off. 

“I can, I can,” Tommy defended. Neither the stream nor voice chat believed him. 

“Watch, watch,” Techno piped up, his icon blinking in mockery. “He’ll cheese it and insist he did a full split. God, this better get put in the highlights.” 

“I’m not seeing you do a split, Sir piss bitch Technoblade!” 

“Sir piss bitch-” 

“And I’m not seeing you do one either,” Wilbur finally cut in. “Come on, give the viewers what they paid for Tommy. Do a split! Do a split! Do a split!” 

As the chant picked up in the voice call, Tommy huffed and pushed himself out of his seat. A part of him clammed up at seeing more than just his face mirrored in his stream. He knew his general leanness gave him a propensity for more flexibility-based tricks, but that never helped him face his reflection. 

“Well, you asked for it, so here it is! TommyInnit doing a split!” 

He hesitated for a split second, nervousness freezing tight against his skin. He didn’t halt because of the split, of course not - he had been able to do the splits cold by his second year. No, it was for the strange vulnerability worming into his head, the age-old fear of shunning and rejection blaring hot and irrational. 

He told himself to calm down. It was just a split- nothing that could garner unwanted opinions. 

He lifted his hands above his head - controlled, flicked outwards just-so - reached his right leg forward, and fell down into a split. 

It was nothing, really. He winced slightly on the way down, muscles contracting angrily in protest, but the descent felt smooth and familiar. By the time his thighs hit the ground, he momentarily forgot about the stream and could only think about his room for improvement.

With a measured breath, he brought his hands to the floor and pushed himself up. Dim noise burst through his headphones.

“Jesus Christ chat, one second! You asked for a split and you got one. I better not see any complaining!” 

It took only a second to scramble back to his set-up and settle in. He entertained the idea of ending the stream on that. It was around that time. 

“TommyInnit has done a split. I repeat, TommyInnit has done a split. Yes stream, TommyInnit has done a split and I have no idea how he did it but TommyInnit has done a split-” 

“Are you all quite done?” Tommy interrupted roughly. His chat rushed past in a flurry of emotes and key smashes. 

“One sec, I need to say it one more time. TommyInnit has done a split-” 

Tubbo took this as his chance to speak up. There was a reason he was Tommy’s favorite. 

“Holy shit man, you’re flexible! That looked so smooth and sliding-y, you know?” 

He waved his hand at his camera, smiling slightly. “Yeah man, I’m a bit flexible. Nice and bendy. Oh yeah, the ladies call me Flexy Tommy wherever I go.” 

A wheeze sounded out, followed by a high-pitched screech of laughter. 

“Flexy Tommy,” Wilbur repeated, sounding entirely too amused with himself, “What do the ladies tell you, Flexy Tommy?” 

“Why, how to file a restraining order, of course.” 

More sharp giggles. Techno’s icon blinked in tandem with the nearly demonic noise of him coughing. When the laughter started up again, Tommy joined in. 

Eventually, the hysterics calmed to a couple of scattered chuckles. Tommy gave the group a couple of seconds before he switched the topics and continued the stream. 

“I’ll tell you what Tommy,” Wilbur finally said, slightly out of breath. “At your next sub-goal, you have to do a live-stream where you show all your flexy skills.” 

“Yeah, sure. when I hit two mils I’ll do a stream and just do a bunch of splits,” Tommy agreed. The response felt slightly instinctual, less something he promised and more of a passing joke. Assuming that was the end of it, he moved on to the next bit and let his split be forgotten. 

*** 

After the stream, he absently tweeted something about the promise. TommyFlexy became number four trending in the United Kingdom. 

Shit, he might actually have to do it. 

He cursed his stupid performer’s heart.

*** 

While he sat alone eating noodles, he hit two million. 

Scrolling through the wall of congratulations and TommyFlexy, dread slowly pooled in his gut. 

*** 

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” Tubbo said absently. From his end, Tommy heard the slow clicking of his keyboard as he worked on the assignment of the week. Tommy threw his pencil onto the desk. 

“I know, but that’ll make me look like a bitch. I don’t want to look like a bitch Tubbo,” Tommy replied emphatically. A snort lit up Tubbo’s icon. 

“Then do it. No one expects you to be a professional, you know.” 

“That’s the thing Tubbo. They don’t expect it of me, but I do. And if I fail I’m going to be seen as the dumbo that tried to look cool but failed miserably. Shit, I think I’d look like a try-hard.” 

He vaguely heard a shuffling come from the other end. “You’re a gymnast?” 

“Well, an acrobat,” Tommy replied, feeling awkward and the slightest bit defensive. “Found it when I was nine and I’ve been doing it ever since.” 

“Oh, cool.” A pause, then- “You could always just throw it and pretend like you suck.”

Tommy huffed deadpan. “Think of my pride, Tubbo. It would be wounded Tubbo, wounded.” 

“I mean-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tommy interrupted. “I know that realistically I could throw it, but it’s just like. I don’t know. I would rather try my best and make a fool of myself than intentionally suck, you know?” 

“I get that.” 

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence. If Tommy focused on the ambient noise, he could ignore the scrambled-together routine flashing through his mind. 

“You’re going to do great, you know that?” 

“Of course.” Tommy grinned wickedly. 

“I’m going to give them the best show they’ve ever seen.” 

*** 

He scrolled through his messages, heart pounding harsh against his chest. Various texts of encouragement, a couple of jokes, and way too many winking faces blinked back at him. Despite being in his studio, his streaming set-up stood in front of him. 

Realistically, he knew he was good. The various gold medals hanging from his wall proved it. However, gold medals didn’t mean that he didn’t have room for improvement or that he actually had the soul- they just showed that he could impress a couple of judges. Judges that didn’t know him. 

At eleven-thirty, he started the stream. His trusty, forgiving silks hung in frame.

He vaguely registered himself speaking his intro. In all honestly, he had switched to performance mode as soon as he entered his studio. 

“For those of you who have no idea what the fuck is going on, a while ago I made a promise on stream that when I hit two mil I would show my flexy skills. Well, guess what happened!” 

He noticed the surge of confusion overwhelming his chat. The light red fabric of his suit rested comfortably against his skin. 

“Well chat, no sense in delaying the inevitable. You asked for a show. And, since you’re all such wonderful people, I’m going to let you in on a secret.” He winked into the camera, backing up until he felt the thick silks brush against his back. He assumed his starting position. 

“You’re all about to be blown away.” 

A heavy beat faded in, one he’d been listening to on repeat for the past week. 

His body moved in sync with his heart. 

He never felt more at ease.

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I was just trying to rid myself of this idea super quick but then I got into the zone and well,,, 
> 
> This may have come from me thinking acrobatics are criminally underrated. And by acrobatics, I mean all of them. I just think they're neat. What are you gonna do, sue me? 
> 
> I might add on some time later, I might not. I honestly think it's pretty chill as a stand-alone, but I also would find it fucking hilarious if an acrobatic Tommy tried to teach the Sleepybois how to use silks like- 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
